Let me start by exclaiming that I am, in fact, alive!  I praise God for his faithfulness in delivering me from any and all dangers in Jamaica and here in Indiana for the past few weeks.  It has been quite some time since I have left you any pieces of my heart, but that has been with good cause.  I have been in the midst of a vocational transition (job change), and I have wanted to profess this to my students by mouth prior to having it posted on the internet.  Don't get too excited, though.  I'm not going to give you too many juicy details today.  In the coming days/week, you will have a recap of my trip to Jamaica, a summary of my trip to Nicaragua, and information about the job change, but today, I want to share with you a revelation that God granted me last night.

I'd heard through a friend that an old teammate of mine respected my 'game.'  That may not seem like a lot, but for a washed-up has been like myself, it's good to know that someone that close to me thought highly of how I played.  Hearing these words brought me back to my freshman year in college, when I was a redshirting 17 year old, watching the all-american Jeff Faine suit up week after week.  You see, Jeff was all that was football.  While others left the field early, he stayed to work on footwork.  When other linemen ate pizzas and cake, he peeled the skin off his chicken breast.  And when other linemen had mental lapses during a game, Jeff Faine hurt people...often.  I wanted nothing but to play a game like Jeff Faine played it.

My sophomore year, I won the chance to play in Jeff's old spot, at center.  I'll never forget that first game.  Last night, I had a vivid memory of calling my dad after the game.  "What did I look like, Dad?" was the question that spilled out time and time again,  "How did I play the game?" 

"Like Faine," he answered, "You played that game like Jeff."  Oh, what wondrous words for my ears to hear.  My dad thought I played the game like the one who taught me how to play it.  That's where the reminiscing ceased.  The Lord worked on my heart in such a way that I broke down last night.  Thinking about that conversation with my dad, I realized that I have since stopped having that conversation with God.

"Father, did you see me?  How did I look?"

"Like Jesus, son.  You looked like Jesus."

Oh, what wondrous words they'd be to hear.  That I have lived life, treated others, and loved like the One who has taught me how to do it.  Jeff Faine was and is an amazing football player, but he pales in comparison to the mastery that Jesus has over this world.  If only my mind would realize that daily.